Silver Nights, Turquoise Lights: The Piano
by chainmailbucket
Summary: Riku, as a child, has never really known what it means to emotionally hurt someone. At 13, he suddenly learns when the wrong words send his mother into a quiet solitude, and he looks for the best way to say that he's sorry... And mean it. - A short story requested by a reviewer for my Universe in Silver Lights, Turquoise Nights.


**A/N:** Hey guys! Thank you to the Guest that reviewed with this lovely topic, it was wonderful to write! Also, just thank you for reviewing, haha! Keep up the ideas, I love prompts probably more than I should. You'll notice the tone of this is probably a little different than my previous stories- my tone changes depending on what I'm reading, and I picked up Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle for fun. So of course, it's a little more archaic in flavor now!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Any other prompts you can think of, just post it in the review section, I'll be sure to write it if it doesn't infringe upon the main story! If I think it would make a lovely addition to the main story, I'll try to let you know, but if you happen to be a guest... Well, just assume that if I don't post your request in short-story format, it's probably because I thought it would be lovely in the bigger picture of the SLTN story.

Anyway, here's my strange, oddly written story about Riku and how he learned to play the piano.

 **The Piano**

Riku was thirteen when he realized there were some things you were better off not mentioning to Lucrecia. With the youthful ignorance of a child, he'd never noticed it before; it seemed almost sudden, the realization that certain words could hurt someone close to you.

They were seated at the table, all together, enjoying breakfast before Riku's first day at his new school. It was, unfortunately, not THE first day of schoo, but rather the first day of a week in the middle of winter, but that was unavoidable with his lifestyle. It was something of a treat- Cloud was there, today, a figure from Riku's childhood that he had missed. Cloud had been spending months away, chasing down the figure that hunted them, and so every visit was cause for celebration.

There was an air of comfortable joy; Riku had elected to join the youth orchestra, but he hadn't decided on an instrument.

"How about the violin?" Elena said suddenly, lifting her head. She had changed her hairstyle earlier the previous week, and for now it was curly and dyed reddish-orange. "You could learn the violin."

"That's too common," Riku said, leaning back in his seat. "I don't want to be one of the forty other students picking the violin."

"It's common because it's a very pretty instrument," Lucrecia said with a smile, watching her son fondly.

"What about an upright bass?" This came from Rude, whose eyes were, as always, hidden behind large black shades. "That's a pretty mature instrument- requires a lot of strength."

"No," Riku hedged, frowning. "I don't think it's my style."

"The cello?" Reno offered. "That's a cool instrument. You could play it like an upright bass too, if you wanted."

"The piano." They looked up at Cloud, who was sitting quietly; he was always very quiet. He turned his piercing blue eyes on the silver-haired teen. "You could learn to play the piano."

Riku frowned again, but Lucrecia clapped her hands together, delighted.

"Oh, I love the piano," she said happily. "I haven't heard it played in a long time."

"Yeah," Riku said petulantly, almost like a child, "but my father played the piano, and I don't want to be like him."

The table got very quiet, and the air seemed to drain of the happiness it had held a few moments ago. Elena had the expression of one who has heard someone has passed away, and Reno looked as though he no longer wanted to be there. Lucrecia looked down at the table, frowning; Riku didn't know it, but she was frowning to push away sudden tears.

"Your father is a good person," she said quietly, and Riku snorted, crossing his arms. He was still too young to realize that he had walked into a very sore conversation for his mother.

"No, he wasn't," the teen said bitterly, placing emphasis on the "wasn't". It was no mistake that Riku barely remembered the man that had apparently sired him; he wasn't even sure if he had ever in fact met the man. "He left you. Alone. With two sons. And now that you're in danger, he still isn't around."

Lucrecia slowly wrapped her hands around her arms. She said nothing for a few moments.

"Your father... Left because she had to." Her voice was injured; Riku began to suddenly realize that he had never heard her sound like this before. "He loved us all very... much. He blamed himself for..." She looked at Riku, eyes bright. "You wouldn't understand."

"I understand enough to know I'll never leave you," Riku said, but this didn't have the desired effect. Instead of smiling, she looked more hurt than ever, pushed away from the table, and walked out of the room.

"That wasn't very nice, Riku," Elena said softly. "That wasn't very nice at all."

"I don't understand," Riku said in confusion. "It's true. He left her. He left all of us behind."

"You can't say things like that to someone like your mother," Cloud said softly. "She still loves him, Riku."

Riku felt suddenly uncomfortable. He frowned, looking at his hands, and realized that this was a new kind of mistake. Of all of the mistakes in his life, Riku would have been able to say "I'm sorry", and everything would be okay. This was the kind of mistake that didn't allow for that- this was the kind of mistake that sat deep in a person's soul and took something a lot bigger than "I'm sorry".

"What was the song he used to play her?" Riku said quietly, and the four adults glanced at each other curiously.

"It was a beautiful piece," Elena whispered softly, eyes turning misty with rememberance. "I think I heard the title once- 'To Zanarkand', by Nobuo Uematsu."

Riku had his answer. In finding himself in a mess that he had created, the first true mess of his life in which he felt guilty, he knew the answer.

For weeks, the silver-haired thirteen year old stayed late at his school. He didn't speak a word to Lucrecia, his mother, nor really to anyone. Unbeknownst to him, though his short and curt answers supplied the half-truth of "studies" for his reasoning, Riku was staying in the bandroom until the janitors kicked him out every night. There, sitting alone near the back of the room, was a beautiful grand piano, and he worked every day- to learn the piano, and to master the one song he meant to learn.

It was three weeks in, and Riku was anxious. It was never long before the demon that hunted their steps found them, and three weeks was already pushing it. He'd worked harder than he had in his entire life, and though the song had many errors, an instinctual notion within him seemed to say that time was up- he needed to move now.

Lucrecia had barely noticed much outside of her son's need to study. She'd never had a falling out with her son, but the sad truth of his words had hurt her. In the weeks which Riku had been mysteriously absent, she turned quietly though her memories, suddenly doubting the conviction with which she had blindly trusted her one-time husband. The memories seemed to cloud, to tinge with the sadness she felt, and the doubt ate at her heart; there was nothing Cloud or the Turks could do. They watched Riku's strange pattern and Lucrecia's dwindling happiness with a great deal of helplessness.

Until Riku brought them to the auditorium.

On the stage, with the help of the band instructor, Riku had pulled the beautiful grand piano. Special for the private performance, Riku had his mother and extended family members sit in the blacony seats, where the sound reverberated at its best and they could see the whole of the stage.

And so it was that Riku Crescent, with three weeks of practice, performed "To Zanarkand" on the piano for his heart broken mother.

As the beautiful notes hit Lucrecia's ears, tears streamed down her cheeks. With the music came the memories she had needed to remind herself that her fears were based incorrectly. She could see herself at picnics, dancing, laughing, smiling, and the vows he made with the promises in his eyes. She wasn't ready to acknowledge his name; not with the sorrow of missing him, but in her heart, Lucrecia knew he missed her as much as she missed him... And that his self-imposed exile was, for now, entirely necessary. Covering her mouth with her hands, Lucrecia cried softly; she had failed so many times, failed the people she loved and the people that had loved her, but for once in her life... Lucrecia had succeeded. Riku was her greatest treasure.


End file.
